


Private Night

by twodwarves_oneeagle



Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Anal Sex, Incest, M/M, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-02
Updated: 2013-01-02
Packaged: 2017-11-23 08:38:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/620182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twodwarves_oneeagle/pseuds/twodwarves_oneeagle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for the prompt:  I want Kili in Thorin’s lap, riding him. Make it as filthy as possible, anon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Private Night

On the entire trip they had taken so far, between Ered Luin, the Shire and now eastbound, Kili’s favourite nights were the ones they camped out under the stars. He would lay down his bedroll and his jackets on a patch of ground smelling of dirt and musk and wild and watch the stars as they twinkled and played across the night sky. 

These were his favourite nights when the embers burned low and the camp had enough room to stretch and spread, while the dips and small rolling hills kept them largely out of view; it also had the advantage of giving them a clear vantage point to watch from. 

They were his favourite for a very good reason: the privacy. 

As royalty, Thorin and his nephews were given a wide birth when it came to setting up their campsite, and on nights like this, Kili took every advantage of it. He waited until the night had claimed all the sounds but the crickets chirping or the snores of Gloin; even after the night had swallowed the sounds, he waited a half hour more before crawling out of his bed roll and over to his uncle’s. 

Nimble and light, Kili set himself astride his uncle’s lap, careful not to wake him just yet. His hands ghosted over Thorin’s furs and jerkin, tracing every royal knot that had carefully been marked into the leather. He took the time to just appreciate Thorin’s face without the haunted look in his eye or the weight of loss and revenge weighing at his shoulders. 

Kili sighed with adoration, settling himself down until he was chest to chest; he settled a kiss on Thorin’s lips, finishing it with a playful little nip. 

It wasn’t the first time Thorin had been woken with Kili straddling him, and he knew it wouldn't be the last. Sometimes, when he really needed sleep he would ignore his nephew who was all youth and energy and apparently didn’t need sleep. But, with the teeth grazing his lips, Thorin snapped to attention, pressing a kiss back against Kili. It was quick and all crash and tongue and teeth.

“Kili,” His voice was measured even after the the kiss. He looked appraisingly at the youthful, almost clean face of his youngest nephew. “What are you doing?”

A cheeky grin was flashed in response, “I was kissing you, uncle, but now...” His fingers, nimble from years of fletching arrows, wove over the tunic and slipped buttons from their holds, belts from their buckles and snapped open any clasps, that kept the offending his clothes on his uncle, “I am stripping you,” he answered very matter of factly, crooked grin and cockiness dripping off his words like syrup. 

Kili’s focus goes ever lower, opening up his trousers and small clothes, slipping his rough hand inside his the dark fabric. “And this, dear uncle,” Kili chimes cheekily, his hand wrapping around his uncle’s cock and stroking without preamble, “Is what I believe men call a ‘hand job.’” 

Thorin’s eyes darken with lust, edged with annoyance. He would not be treated patronizingly by the youngest member of his Company. His fingers found Kili’s hair and gave a sharp tug. “Watch your tone, Kili.” Thorin warned, leaning up to drag his teeth along Kili’s sinuous neck, biting down on his collarbone. 

An airy, excited whine met his ears, not at all the noise someone who was even remotely sorry would make. “Clothes off,” Thorin ordered, seating himself on the grass, his voice deep and private against Kili’s skin. The authority alone caught a shiver to jolt up Kili’s spine. The two separate their chests long enough for Kili to rip his shirt up over his head, meeting with Thorin again with a hungry kiss. 

Only the rebellion of youth and Kili’s mischievous nature kept him from submitting immediately, but when he did, his mouth was pliant and hot against Thorin’s own, offering quiet moans.

Thorin kept his hands busy, working off Kili’s breeches, shoving them down around his thighs just far enough to expose Kili to the cool night of the air. 

Breaking the kiss, Thorin replaced his lips with his fingers, and Kili took them obediently, his tongue tracing over the pads of his fingers coating them with slick of saliva. He sucked and he moaned around the fingers, earning a hungry, appreciative grunt from Thorin. Reaching around the younger, lither dwarf, Thorin pressed his fingers against Kili’s entrance; Kili yielded to him with a thick moan. 

“How long have you wanted this?” Thorin pushed his finger passed the tight ring of muscle, up to the first knuckle haltingly, continuing only when Kili’s body was rocking and begging silently for more. 

“Since Bag End, since before that.” Kili’s voice was crackling with lust and need, but through it all he offered his trademark grin, stealing another kiss before Thorin even had the chance to deny him. He was repaid with a hard shove of Thorin’s hand, and his finger seating itself to the knuckle inside him. 

The rocked like that until Kili was keening and demanding more with the wet, open kisses he placed over his uncle’s neck. Thorin replied in kind, slipping another finger inside of him, scissoring and curling until he found the spot that made Kili buck and hiss. “Quiet, Kili, or I’ll find something to gag you with,” Really, that threat should not have made him feel hot all over. 

Kili is back to kissing Thorin, muffling all of his mewls and whimpers in the lips of his uncle, though occasionally a word will slip out. “Please”, “need”, and “more” become a litany of everything and anything Kili had ever wanted in that moment. Thorin is more than happy to oblige.

He slips his fingers from Kili and _oh,_ how Kili whines with disappointment. “Patience,” Thorin reminds him, he would not leave his nephew wanting. 

Thorin ignores how undignified it is for a King to spit in to his hand, and does just that a couple times and strokes himself with a ragged hiss of his own until he is slick enough. The King Under the Mountain doesn’t even have to guide Kili onto his cock, Kili seats himself, taking is shallowly at first, using Thorin to tease himself. 

Thorin can’t help but think if Kili had that sort of self control with everything, he’d be well on his way to being a master of many things. 

He doesn’t hold that thought for long, distracted as Kili takes him completely, finally sliding down until they’re thigh to thigh. Thorin is once again reaching for that untamed hair and pulling him in for a kiss until Kili’s lips are swollen and pink. 

Kili steadies himself with both hands on Thorin’s shoulders and fucks himself in his uncle’s lap, Thorin snapping his hips up and grunting as something carnal takes over in his gut.  One shaky hand moves from its perch on his uncle’s shoulders, reaching to stroke himself but his hand is slapped away with a reprimanding growl. “No, Kili, you will come from me inside you, or not at all.”

A moment of worried confusion breaks through the haze of lust long enough for Kili to recognize the command, nodding. Experimentally he shifts himself forward and white explodes behind his eyes. Oh _yes_ , that was exactly what he was going for. 

Just like that, at that angle, Kili ruts against his uncle, alternating between low, filling strokes or shallow teasing ones, anything to get himself off like that. And Thorin lets him, just watches him and contributes a kiss or a bite here or there as Kili works himself over, whining and whimpering and ultimately biting Thorin’s shoulder just to silence himself. 

It’s like that he comes, curled over with the taste of his uncle in his mouth. 

Thorin keeps up his pace, working through the shuddering and the whimpers and in Durin’s name, if Kili hadn’t _just_ come he’d be hard from the way Thorin is just using him, gasping when he feels Thorin go rigid underneath him, and the strokes become smoother and easier as Thorin pushes through his own orgasm. 

Together they bask in the moment, that dazed, blissed out moment of perfection that follows sex. Kili is running his fingers through his uncles hair, lovingly tracing the thin streaks of grey that have started to show. 

And in the distance, _that’s_ what does it for Fili, his hand working over himself; not the rough, wanton sex, not the mewls and the whimpers or the grunts and growls, but that moment of tenderness that his brother and uncle share. It’s that one moment of love that none of them get enough of, and it goes right to Fili’s cock as he comes with his brother’s and his uncle’s name light on his lips. 


End file.
